


Life Changes

by asphaltcowgrrl



Category: Common Law (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 05:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14442837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphaltcowgrrl/pseuds/asphaltcowgrrl
Summary: Several years after his divorce from Alex, Wes finally moves on.  Travis isn't as lucky.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written any fanfic, so bear with me if either are out of character at all. But this is also set a few years after the series ended so maybe character growth? :D

_In vino veritas_

_**Two Months Ago** _

Travis hadn’t bothered to turn on the television or even the radio, instead settling for the inescapable silence of his trailer. It was like a punishment to himself, he thought, to endure the silence after the day he’d had with Wes. Damn, but that boy was stubborn as hell when he wanted to be, Travis thought. On one hand, it had a tendency to make Travis crazy when Wes got his teeth into something. But, on the other, it was what made Wes so good at his job. So, Travis endured it for the sake of their careers. 

Well, mostly, he put up with it. Usually only after a handful of smart assed comments, but what could he do? Wes was impossibly persistent, arrogant, and right. Always so damn right. 

Lost in his rehashing of the day and the predictable argument he’d had with his partner, he hadn’t been expecting his phone to ring. Especially not so late on a Thursday night. The sound, breaking the calm quiet of his home, startled Travis out of his angry musings. 

“What the hell,” he muttered, grabbing his cell off the kitchen table. “Marks,” he said.

“Travis?”

“Wes,” Travis replied, switching the phone to his other ear as he stood. “You okay, baby? You sound a little… off.” Yeah, if drunk off his ass counted as ‘off’. Travis had to be imagining that slurring of words because Wes never, ever let himself have more than he could handle and absolutely never, ever on a work night. No, he left that kind of stupidity to Travis. Which, Travis had to admit, was a torch he took up proudly and much too often. 

“Yeah,” Wes sighed. “Fine.”

“Bullshit,” Travis snorted. “What’s going on? You need me to come down there and kick someone’s ass?” Because he’d do it with glee. Hell, he’d do anything Wes asked him to do. That’s what partners were for, right?   
“No, Travis,” Wes said, voice low. “I don’t need you for anything.”

Ouch, that hurt. The asshole could have gone all night and not reminded Travis that he wasn’t needed in Wes’ perfect life. He was well aware of that fact already. On the other hand, while Travis didn’t like to admit it, he needed Wes for so many reasons. A motivator to get up and get to work on time every day, a reminder to do his job well and thoroughly, an excuse to…

“C’mon, Wes,” Travis wheedled, ignoring the place where his brain so desperately wanted to go. He refused to allow it, not as long as he was sober anyway. He liked to save those humiliating thoughts for a time when he wasn’t likely to remember them. “Talk to me, baby. I’m here for you.”

On the other end of the line, Wes blew out a harsh breath, the kind that told Travis that blondie had a lot on his mind and none of it good. “I don’t know what to say.”

“How about the truth,” Travis joked. “You called me, man. Why?”

“It was a mistake,” Wes said, sounding more like his usual self. “Forget I called. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Wes, wait,” Travis said, but the line was dead. “Fuck.”

Shoving his phone into his pocket, Travis grabbed his jacket off the couch and stormed out of his trailer. He was going to have to go find his dumbass partner and make sure he was safe. Never in their time together had Travis needed to be the responsible one. He didn’t like how it felt one bit. Maybe this was why Wes was always so pissed off at him. 

“Damn you, blondie,” Travis growled, throwing a leg over his bike and settling in. “Why are you doing this to me?” He slapped his helmet down, started his bike, and took off for the one place he knew Wes might be. 

**

Tucking his helmet under his arm, Travis surveyed the lobby of the hotel Wes lived in. It had been nearly four years since Wes’ divorce from Alex and he was still holed up in this damn hotel. Travis had hoped that Carlie, Wes’ current girlfriend - that in itself was a shock, that Wes had started dating - would convince him to get an apartment or something. So far, she hadn’t had any luck. Like he’d said a million times – Wes was a stubborn SOB when he wanted to be. 

The bar was to the left so he headed in that direction. Travis had only been minimally surprised when Wes told him Carlie was trying to get him to find a place of his own. Any woman in her right mind would want her boyfriend to have a house or even an apartment. Seriously, who wanted to date someone living in a hotel? Even if the hotel was as ridiculously nice as this one. It bothered Travis that he’d been so freaking happy when Wes had told her he wasn’t ready for a place of his own yet. Surprisingly, that declaration hadn’t chased Carlie away either. She’d shrugged and said she’d give him more time instead of pitching the fit Travis had predicted.   
What the hell was wrong with that woman anyway? Besides the obvious – that she was dating Wes. 

Travis’ eyes scanned the dimly lit bar and he almost missed his target, almost. Wes was sitting in a corner booth near the back, head down, a glass of what had once been the finest whisky sitting before him. He felt something squeeze at his heart as he stepped into the room, staring at his downtrodden partner. Wes was definitely drunk, farther gone than Travis had ever seen him. Not that he’d had much opportunity to see Wes ever indulge in more than one or two drinks, but still. This wasn’t his first, nor could it possibly be his second. 

Sliding into the booth across from Wes, Travis moved the glass from in front of his partner. “Wes, baby, look at me.”

Wes shook his head. “Go home, Marks. I said I didn’t need you.” He made a half hearted shooing motion with one wobbly hand. 

“Yeah,” Travis said, shaking his head. “I’m not buying that shit. Look at me, please.”

With what seemed like a momentous effort, Wes lifted his head and stared blearily at Travis. There was so much pain in those sapphire colored eyes that it hit Travis dead in his chest. Something serious had to have gone down for Wes to be this broken. He was always so strong, so confident, so certain he was in the right. It bugged Travis to see him looking like this. No, that wasn’t right. It pained him to see Wes in such a state. 

“What happened,” Travis asked. “Is Alex okay?” Why his thoughts immediately jumped to Alex and not Carlie, he wasn’t sure, but it felt right. He knew Wes cared about Carlie, but he’d loved Alex. 

“Alex is fine as far as I know,” Wes whispered. “We haven’t spoken in a few weeks.”

This was probably for the best, if they were being honest. Travis wasn’t going to put another stab wound in his gut by saying as much, however. Alex had moved on a long time ago, found a new boyfriend, who became a new husband. They’d moved and she’d found a new lawn, one that Wes had no custodial ownership of, giving him no reason to visit. That had been hard, but even then, Wes hadn’t gotten this emotional. 

“And Carlie,” Travis asked, worried that something had happened to that sweet woman. “Everything okay with her, too?”

Carlie wasn’t Alex, and Travis had adored Alex, but Carlie was exactly everything Wes needed. Kind, considerate, smart as a whip. Oh, and she was hot as hell, too. But Wes didn’t care about things like that. He was more interested in her brain, which was so much whatever as far as Travis was concerned. But the relationship worked, so he tried not to start shit with Wes over it. Hell, he went so far as to support it most of the time. Unless Wes was being an idiot. Then Travis made a point to tell Wes that Carlie should dump him ASAP.

“Carlie,” Wes barked out an angry laugh. “Carlie’s fine. Just fucking fine.”

Travis sat back, staring at Wes. Say what you wanted about Wes, but he prided himself on always being perfectly professional. He didn't crack jokes, he didn’t roll his eyes, and he rarely ever swore. For him to drop such an emphatic f-bomb shocked Travis’ not-so-delicate sensibilities. Something had definitely gone south. 

“Wes,” he said, slowly drawing his partner’s name out. “What the hell happened?”

Staring at a ring of condensation on the table, Wes sighed. “She dumped me.”

Trying to still his suddenly racing heart, Travis leaned forward, reaching a hand across the table. His fingers brushed Wes’ arm. Wes jerked away from the touch. Travis frowned at his over the top reaction, but left his hand where it was. “Why?”

“Why else,” Wes said, tears welling in his bloodshot eyes. “Because I’m me, Marks. Who the hell wants to date an asshole like me?”

Someone who knows the real you, Travis thought. Someone who, despite being the victim of your tirades and endless insults, knows that you have a gentle soul. Someone, anyone, who knows exactly how hard moving on for you has been. 

He didn’t say any of that, however. Travis had gotten too good at denying his feelings over the years to out himself now. Being shuffled from foster home to foster home did that to a kid. Admitting any of this to Wes would only make the situation worse. Especially since he wouldn’t likely remember a word of it in the morning. 

“There are a lot of women who would love to date you,” he said, standing and moving to Wes’ side. 

“Right,” Wes huffed. “Like who?”

“Kendall,” he said, smiling as he thought of their favorite forensic computer analyst. The girl was a spitfire and fun as all get out. “The blonde at the coffee cart. Or even Dakota, if she wasn’t married.”

That got a laugh out of Wes. “Dakota is a crazy woman,” he said. “Not sure I could survive a night with her.”

“She hasn’t broken Peter yet,” Travis said, thinking about the young couple in their therapy group. He still had no idea why they even attended. Those two were the most well-adjusted couple he’d ever met. Honestly, he was beginning to believe they came for the social aspect that group therapy provided. They were just that odd. “I think you could survive.”

Wes looked up at Travis. “I doubt it,” he said. “I don’t know if I can survive anything now.”

“Well,” Travis said, holding out his hand. “I think you might survive this night if you get out of that booth and get to bed.”

“I don’t want to be alone, Travis.”

“You won’t be,” Travis assured him, swallowing down the fear that rose with the offer. “I’ll stay with you so you’ll have company. Okay?”

One corner of Wes’ mouth twitched upwards into an almost smile. “You’d do that for me? Even with how awful I am to you?”

Travis shrugged. “You’re not awful to me, Wes. You’re trying to keep my ass alive, I respect that. And I appreciate it, too, even if I don’t say it.” He wiggled his fingers at Wes, encouraging him to take them in his own. “And yeah, I’d take a bullet for you, blondie. Damn near did once, if you remember. This is nothing.”

The smile that had been thinking about taking over Wes’ mouth finally made its choice. Wes’ lips turned upwards in a sloppy, drunken grin, and it made Travis’ heart thud in double time. “Okay,” he said, taking Travis’ hand.  
“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Travis laughed, hauling Wes to his unsteady feet. “You might want to wait and make sure I can get you into your room in one piece first.”

“I trust you,” Wes said, slinging an arm over Travis’ shoulder, leaning his head against Travis’. 

Travis’ heart stopped, then kicked back to life. God, he was playing with fire.


	2. Chapter 2

_I remember the night when I almost kissed her  
Yeah, I kinda freaked out, we'd been friends for forever  
And I always wondered if she felt the same way  
When I got the invite, I knew it was too late_

_Marry Me_ \- Thomas Rhett

_**Present Day** _

“Last night,” Wes said, unlocking his car doors, “I proposed to Carlie. She accepted.”

“You can’t be serious,” Travis said, settling into the passenger seat as the words battered his brain. There wasn’t any way he’d actually heard correctly. Wes was getting married again? To Carlie? No fucking way.   
Wes treated Travis to an icy glare. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“I dunno, man,” Travis said, staring out his window as Wes pulled out of the parking lot. “Maybe because you crashed and burned the first time? I thought you swore after the way things went down with Alex that you’d never get married again.” It was only what Wes had been saying for the last five years anyway.

Wes grunted and merged onto the freeway. “I changed my mind,” he said, never taking his eyes off the road. He was a stickler for obeying the rules of the road at all times. “That is still allowed, isn’t it, Marks? I’m allowed to get over Alex, move on, and change my damn mind, right?” 

His tone implied that there was little point in debating the issue, so Travis let Wes have his verbal victory. 

“I guess,” Travis muttered, slumping in the passenger seat. Stop the world, he wanted to get off, this couldn’t be happening. “I wonder what Doctor Ryan will say about it though.”

“It’s none of her business,” Wes snapped. “And I’d appreciate you keeping your damn mouth shut about it tonight, too.”

“Fine,” Travis grunted, looking anywhere but at Wes. “Whatever. It’s your life.” Although, if the girls in group got wind of Wes’ engagement, it’d be a whole other argument. One blondie wasn’t likely to win. 

“Damn right it’s my life,” Wes growled, hitting the gas pedal and shooting into the thick of the morning rush hour.

There wasn’t much to see as they flew along the freeway, but Travis’ mind took it in all the same. Familiar sights and things he’d never seen before blurred into one mashup of color and sound. Their daily path from point A to point B had suddenly become somewhat meaningless in the grand scheme of things. 

Travis had always known that Wes would eventually find someone to replace Alex. It was only natural, humans had an innate need to pair off into couples in order to ensure the survival of the species. Besides, his partner was a good looking man, wealthy, and charming when he wanted to be. Who wouldn’t want to be all over that? Sometimes, Travis was surprised at how long it had taken Wes not just in getting over Alex, but in finding someone new. 

What bugged Travis about the proposal was that it hadn’t even been two months since Carlie dumped Wes. Out of the blue, she’d told him she was done, so long, see ya pal. She’d left him a sobbing, drunken mess the likes of which Travis had never seen, and hoped to never see again, honestly. How had they managed to put things back together so quickly? An even better question was how on earth had he not known?

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you and Carlie had gotten back together?” He continued to stare out the passenger window, refusing to look at his partner.

“Last I checked, you weren’t part of this relationship, Marks,” Wes snapped. 

Apparently blondie was still perturbed with him, but Travis couldn’t be bothered enough to care. They were partners, shouldn’t they be telling each other these things? Like what if some madman from their past came for Wes? Travis wouldn’t even know that Carlie needed protecting. Alex, yeah, but not Carlie. Damn it, this was important information. 

“When,” Travis asked simply. It was the safer option, the one that didn’t involve tongue lashing his partner for not sharing the most intimate details of his life. 

“When what,” Wes asked, less agitated than before.

“When’s the wedding,” Travis clarified, the last word sticking in his throat. 

“Six weeks,” Wes replied, pulling into the station’s parking lot. He found a spot near the entrance and shut off the car. “Considering the state of our lives at the moment, we figured waiting would only cause us to split up again so we decided not to waste any time.”

“No offense, Wes,” Travis said, unlatching his seat belt. “But what’s the rush?”

“I’m tired of being alone,” Wes said, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut before Travis could respond.

Well, that made two of them, Travis thought. But you didn’t see his dumb ass running off and getting married, did you? One point to Detective Travis Marks for finally showing a bit of restraint. God only knew it was probably the only time in the history of their partnership where he’d been infinitely smarter than Detective Wesley Mitchell. 

 

_**Two Months Ago** _

Wes slumped onto the overstuffed couch, tilting to the side. Smiling at his inebriated, heartbroken partner, Travis pushed the blond upright. “Easy there, Buttercup,” Travis teased. “You’ll fall on your face if you’re not careful. Gotta be careful not to damage your one asset.”

“Not like it matters,” Wes muttered morosely. “No one wants to kiss me anyway.”

I do, Travis thought. But he’d never had enough balls to try. Now would be an ideal time if he’d wanted to try, but then, Wes was snockered and unable to say no. And that was wrong on many levels, so obvious that even a womanizer like Travis could see it. 

He was relatively certain that Wes wouldn’t do much more than pitch a fit if he discovered Travis took advantage of his drunkenness to steal a smooch, but they’d been partners for years and wrecking that would suck for them both. Never mind that the last thing Travis wanted to do was fuck up and risk losing the one man he could honestly call a friend, even if that friendship was tenuous as hell most days. 

Shit would be so much easier if Travis had some idea of how Wes really felt about him. 

Travis looked down at Wes’s limp form and found the blond breathing deeply, sound asleep where he’d collapsed. Wes’ pale cheeks were flushed, his full lips parted deliciously in slumber. It was almost more than Travis could take. 

“Don’t even think about it, Marks,” he chided himself. “Wes will freak the hell out if you try.”

Fuck his life, but he was screwed. How’d he even get here? In love with a man – the one man who couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever love him back. Damn you, Wesley Mitchell, Travis thought. Damn you to hell and back for being so irresistible. 

 

_**Present Day** _

Although Travis knew that he should be listening to Dr. Ryan’s lecture on respecting boundaries in a relationship, he was more interested in watching Wes stare at his feet. He had no idea what Mitchell saw in those highly shined leather loafers, but it had to be more interesting than their group meeting. It made Travis want to lean over, press his shoulder into Wes’ side, and take a peak. God, he could almost smell Wes’ expensive cologne mixed with that natural, all-Buttercup scent. 

Talk about not respecting boundaries. Heh, maybe Dr. Ryan’s lecture was finally starting to sink in a bit?

“Wes,” Dr. Ryan said, drawing Travis’ attention back to group. “Does Travis ever cross the relationship boundaries you’ve set for your partnership?”

“Like you don’t already know the answer to that,” Wes snorted. “We wouldn’t be here if he respected anything about anyone. He has no idea what boundaries even are. You want an example or twelve?”

Dr. Ryan nodded. “Please,” she said, smiling. 

Travis tuned him out because he knew exactly what Wes was going to harp on. Borrowing staplers. Stealing hand sanitizer. Sneaking bites of food when Wes wasn’t looking. Okay, so he was very guilty of the last one, but the other two weren’t his fault. He hadn’t borrowed Wes’ stapler without asking and he had no use for hand sanitizer. The crap dried his skin out, so he never used the stuff. It was worth the walk to the break room to use the moisturizing soap that either Kate or Amy insisted on having around at all times. Wes refused to believe him though, thinking that proximity equaled probability. 

“Travis,” Dr. Ryan said, breaking through his reverie. “What do you have to say about Wes’ claims?”

He made a face and shook his head. What the hell was this woman – a mind reader? Travis took a deep breath and prepared to voice his recent thoughts out loud. “I never borrowed your stapler,” he said, flicking his eyes at Wes. “I’ve told you that twenty times. I also don’t use your hand sanitizer. The food, well, stealing your food, I’m guilty of, okay? But you always order this exotic shit that I’m afraid to order for myself. Who can blame me for sneaking a bite or two when it looks that good?”

“Not me,” Dakota said, grinning. 

He had no doubt she stole fries off Peter’s plate at every opportunity. The cute ones like Dakota always did – and generally got away with it. Travis also had no doubt that Peter let her, because who wouldn’t let their wife have the odd fry now and again? 

“I’m impressed,” Wes said, giving Travis a long, appraising look. “I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

Travis sighed. “I wasn’t,” he admitted. “But you’re like a damn broken record, blondie. I knew what you were going to say long before you said it.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Ryan interjected, trying to stop the fight before it started. “Travis, does Wes ever push your personal boundaries?”

“I do not,” Wes spat before Travis could get a word out.

“He’s right,” Travis said, thinking back to a night when Wes’ head rested on his shoulder, his alcohol-laced breath hot on Travis’ skin. “He never disrespects anyone’s boundaries because he’s too damn busy tending to the minefield surrounding his own personal space.”

Wes flinched. Dr. Ryan must have noticed because she switched her focus onto Clyde and Rozelle. It was obvious that they still loved each other, but that something had come between them at some point. Something minor, most likely, but they’d let it go unnoticed for too long, allowing it to grow into something unmanageable, landing them here, in this circle of hell. Travis figured that was probably par for the course with couples that had been together for any length of time. You get comfortable with one another and let things go until you can’t ignore them any longer. He and Wes were a perfect example of that. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Wes whispered harshly as soon as Dr. Ryan turned to the other couple. 

“It means you’re too busy putting up walls to keep others out that you never get close enough to anyone to violate their boundaries.” He shot a look at Dr. Ryan, trying to gauge how much longer they had. Not much longer if he was reading her right. “How you landed someone like Carlie is a freaking mystery to me.” Hell, he never could figure out how he’d managed to convince Alex to marry him, and Wes had been much younger and a lot less uptight back then. 

Opening his mouth to retaliate, Wes spotted Dr. Ryan turning their way. He shut his trap and glared at Travis, warning him that this was far from over. It was more over than Wes realized. Mainly because Wes never fully grasped how much he meant to Travis. And now it was too damn late to make him see the truth. 

“Something you’d like to add, Wes,” Dr. Ryan asked, one eyebrow lifted in question.

“No,” he said, giving his head a sharp shake. “No, I’m good.”

“Travis?”

Her eyes felt like they were boring into his soul. “Nope,” he said, forcing an irresistible smile onto his face. “Nothing to add,” he lied.


	3. Chapter 3

_Every time I turn the ignition, you're on the radio again_  
And in the shotgun of my vision  
There she is where she was but she's not 

_Shut Up Kenny_ \- Walker Hayes

_**Present Day** _

He fanned the pages out in front of him on his makeshift kitchen table, studying the black ink. Wes and Carlie had registered for their wedding even though they’d be married long before any of the gifts could arrive. Travis was almost positive that the registry was Carlie’s idea. Knowing Wes, he’d prefer to go out and buy everything he needed rather than rely on others to get exactly the right thing. It didn’t help that Wes’ particular tastes and requirements were beyond most people’s reach or understanding.

Case in point: What the hell was a santoku knife anyway? 

Not that Travis could afford fucking Wüsthof cutlery in the first place, but that really wasn’t the point. He wanted to prove to Wes – and to himself, he supposed – that he was happy for his partner and his wife-to-be. Somehow it had gotten into his head that the only way to do that was by picking the perfect wedding gift. 

It was a useless endeavor though because no matter what he chose, even if it was the exact item off this exact list, Wes would still find some reason to hate it. He did take some comfort in the fact that Wes would dislike whatever anyone gave them, not just Travis’ gift, but still. If the thought was supposed to count, why did Wes’ impending rejection bother him so much?

Scratch that, he knew why. 

He reached for his cell phone and dropped into the nearest chair. There weren’t many people he could reach out to at a time like this, but there was one he knew he could rely on. If Wes ever found out, he’d never forgive Travis, but he’d worry about that later. Right now, Travis needed to take care of himself and worry about Wes later. It was time he came clean. If not to Wes himself, than to the only person who might be able to help him: Dr. Ryan.

 

She tilted her head to the side and listened as Travis finished his tale. It had been long and involved and took more than a few detours whenever Travis’ nerves got the better of him. But he’d been honest and upfront with her, something she hadn’t gotten out of him or his partner in all the time they’d been coming to their group therapy sessions. 

“So,” she said, trying to put her own thoughts in order. “What do you think this means?”

He looked at her, pale blue eyes boring into her soul. “It means that Wes is jumping into another marriage because he’s afraid Carlie’s going to leave his pasty ass again.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant, Travis,” she said. Emma Ryan took a long sip of her tea, stalling for time. “Let’s take it a different direction. Why does Wes’ proposal bother you so much?”

He shrugged a shoulder and wouldn’t meet her gaze. It was classic avoidance behavior, but she had time. She could wait him out. “Travis?”

“Look,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have called you. None of this matters anyway. He’s going to marry her and then they’re going to get divorced and he’ll wind up even more bitter and angry than he was after Alex.” He moved to stand. Not quite ready to leave, but unable to linger. 

“Travis,” she tried again, a last ditch effort to get him to open up. “We can talk about this, just you and me. No one else will ever know, not even Wes.”

Travis hesitated, then relaxed. “I don’t know where to start,” he finally admitted.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” she suggested.

 

_**Two Months Ago** _

Travis scratched the back of his neck while he looked down at the sleeping form of his partner. Why did he always fall for the wrong person? The first time, it was that cute girl in his history class. She was from a wealthy family and he was anything but what Mr. and Mrs. Daniel McClure would have wanted for their little girl. Shit had only gone south from there. 

And people wondered why he couldn’t find a woman and stick with her. 

There hadn’t been many men over the years, but there had been a few. None of them had ever grabbed and held his attention the way Wes had, however. Travis had considered it a blessing that Wes was married when they’d met. It helped him keep things professional, on the level. Also, it gave him a legitimate excuse not to confess his feelings to Wes. The Mitchell’s subsequent divorce had only thrown his emotions into chaos. A whirling dervish of ups and downs that still hadn’t settled, not even after Wes had found Carlie – and happiness. 

“Okay, buttercup,” Travis muttered, smoothing a hand over mussy blonde hair. “You can’t spend all night on the couch. You do and you’ll have the backache from hell in the morning. And none of us want to deal with your cranky ass when that happens.” God only knew, Wes was cranky enough on his good days. A backache plus a hangover would make someone homicidal. Namely Travis. 

Taking a deep breath, he bent down and lifted Wes off the couch. The familiar lines of Wes’ body felt awkward and heavy in his clumsy embrace. Stumbling once or twice, Travis managed to get Wes into the bedroom and onto his bed without bashing either head or feet into a wall along the way. He considered that a major win. 

“Well, what now, baby?” Travis put his hands on his hips and surveyed the scene. 

The shoes had to go, that much he knew. Wes would have a fit if he woke up wearing his shoes in bed. Travis slipped each one off and placed them neatly on the floor, side by side, exactly as Wes would have done. He was staring again when Wes stirred.

“Travis,” he murmured.

“Yeah, baby?” His heart caught in his chest, stuck somewhere between desire and fear. 

“Stay with me.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Travis forced his mouth to form the words. “I got you into bed, even though you’re still in your clothes.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” Wes muttered, rolling onto his side. “Stay with me.”

How the hell could he resist a request like that? It wasn’t often that Wes asked for anything, usually he demanded things and you did them, like it or not. Travis had to admit, he had a soft spot for a needy, vulnerable Wes. “Okay,” he said, tamping down on his rising anxiety. “Let me get you settled and I’ll go sleep on the couch.”

“No,” Wes said, fixing his gaze on Travis, blue eyes shining in the low light of the bedroom. “Stay here, with me.”

Shit. This wasn’t going to end well, but he couldn’t say no, either. His lonely heart wouldn’t let him say anything other than hell yes. 

“Fuck it,” he grumbled, kicking his shoes off and climbing into bed with his partner. He’d deal with the fallout in the morning, but for now, he was going to enjoy being close to Wes. Even if that arm snaking across his waist was going to be his undoing. 

 

_**Present Day** _

“Yeah,” Travis said, eyes focused on the table in front of him. “It was a shock to me, too.”

“Discovering you were in love with your partner,” Dr. Ryan asked, although it was obvious that she already knew this. 

Travis nodded. “Yeah,” he repeated. “That.”

“Now that you know and accept that you are in love with Wes,” she said, leaning forward, hands flat on the table. “What are you going to do about it?”

That was a damn good question. He couldn’t stop their wedding because that was wrong. Besides, he wasn’t that much of a jerk that he’d come between Wes and his happiness, even if it meant Travis could have everything he’d ever wanted. But could he come clean with Wes and not wreck their working partnership? He didn’t know. “I have no idea, Dr. Ryan. I want to tell him, but I don’t think that I can.”

“Why not?” She sat back in the booth, folding her hands together on the table. Her tea had cooled, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Because I don’t think I can handle being rejected by him.”

That was the rub. Wes rejected him on a daily basis. No, he couldn’t drive Wes’ car. No, they couldn’t have lunch at the Burger Palace, they needed to eat healthier. No, he couldn’t come hang out on Friday, Wes had a date. They were small rejections, but rejections all the same. The little things had a way of piling on top of each other until they formed a big, giant pile of hurt, one Travis couldn’t wade through successfully. 

“Did it ever occur to you that he might not reject you, Travis?” 

She had that professional look back on her face, the one that said ‘trust me, I’m here to help’. That face he was so used to seeing on social workers, teachers, and foster parents. It was a face he’d learned he couldn’t trust. Although, Dr. Ryan hadn’t ever steered him wrong, maybe he could try to trust her this one time?

“Because he doesn’t love me, man,” Travis moaned. “He’s my partner, and my friend, but he doesn’t love me. Not like that.” Not like Travis needed him to love. 

“Maybe you should think about this and we can meet again in a few days.”

“Sure,” he said, watching as Dr. Ryan stood and readied herself to leave. As she turned her back to him and made her way out of the little diner, he knew that it was true. Wes didn’t love him and nothing was ever going to be right with the world again. 

 

“Travis,” Dakota said, stopping him before he could exit the sometimes yoga room. “Can I ask you something?”

He looked over her shoulder at Wes’ departing back. They’d come separately tonight since Wes had wanted to leave immediately for his mid-week date with Carlie. “Yeah, sure, shoot.”

She smiled at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. Dakota was a cute little thing, always full of spunk and light. At times, she reminded him of Kendall, the young computer geek that worked in the cyber forensics department of the LAPD. “Wes has been awfully happy lately.”

“And?” He wasn’t sure what she was getting at, but he knew there wasn’t much he could tell her. 

“And,” she said, drawing the word out. “I was wondering if maybe… you know…”

No, he didn’t know. He had no freaking idea what she was getting at. “Sorry, you’re going to have to give me more deets, girl.”

She gave him a pretty little eye roll. “You two finally hooked up, right? That’s why he’s so happy?”

Her innocent question was a sucker punch to the gut. “No,” he said, forcing a laugh. “We didn’t hook up. Wes don’t swing like that.”

Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you sure? Because I know there’s been more than a few times I’ve caught him –”

“Dakota,” Peter called from the lobby area beyond Travis. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

“Sorry,” she said, giving him a sheepish look. “I thought – oh, never mind. See you next week, Travis.”

She scooted past him and hustled to catch up with her husband. Damn, but she never finished what she was saying and it niggled at his brain. What had she caught Wes doing that led her to think they’d slept together? They never touched, didn’t flirt, or even really get along very well in group. So, what had made Dakota think that Wes would be interested in Travis?

He made a mental note to grill her the next time the group met and filed it away.


	4. Chapter 4

_Yeah anybody else with any kind of sense_  
Woulda done moved on said it is what it is  
But I'm off on the shoulder in a mess, all wrecked inside  
Baby I'm broke down and it ain't the truck this time 

_Broke Down_ \- Cole Swindell

 

_**Two Months Ago** _

Something tickled at Travis’ nose, forcing his eyes open. His heart almost stopped when he realized that the thing that had woken him was the brush of Wes’ blond hair against his face. One pale arm was slung across Travis’ chest, Wes’ pretty, straw-colored head using Travis’ body as a pillow. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, steadying his racing heart. Wes was still asleep and, if Travis could figure out how to get out of this bed without his partner knowing, everything would be fine. Blondie would never even know –

“Who the – Travis?” Wes’ sleepy voice broke the quiet stillness of the bedroom. 

Wes rolled off of Travis’ chest and glared at his partner. Grateful that he’d had the foresight to keep his shirt and pants on when he’d joined Wes in bed the night before, Travis held his hands out. “Wes, wait.”  
“Why the hell are you in my bed? How did you even get into my room last night?” Wes was now standing beside the bed, having scurried out the minute he’d found Travis beside him, his glare morphing into death rays. “Get out!”

“Wes,” he tried again, slipping out of the bed and approaching his irate partner. Cautiously, like Wes wa a caged tiger or something equally dangerous and volatile. “Calm down, man. You called me last night, don’t you remember?”

“I did no such thing,” he stated, crossing his arms defiantly. “I had no reason to call you, Marks.”

“You did so,” Travis spat, pointing at Wes, tired of this game already. “You were drunk and you called me, crying because –”

“Bullshit,” Wes growled. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but I’m going to take a shower and I want you gone by the time the water heats up. Understand?”

“Damnit, Wes,” Travis growled, fists bunched at his sides. “Listen to me –”

“Do you understand,” Wes repeated, ignoring Travis’ pleas. 

“Yeah,” he grunted, giving in to Wes’ anger. “Whatever, Mitchell. Just next time? Call someone else. I’m done helping your surly ass.”

Travis shoved his feet into his sneakers and stormed out of Wes’ bedroom. He slammed the front door behind him, wincing when he remembered they were in a hotel. Muttering a silent apology to anyone he might have woken, he shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to the elevator. 

Fuck blondie and his temperamental self. Wes had a habit of being obnoxious and stubborn, but this was more than even Travis could handle. Heaven only knew, Travis had a lot of experience handling Wes’ moods. Thankfully, time had taught him when to fight it out and when to simply walk away. Today was a day for the latter. 

God, Monday was going to be a bitch. 

 

_**Present Day** _

Buttoning the top button of his dress shirt, Travis looked at himself in the mirror. If you ignored the dark circles under his eyes and the permanent frown on his face, he looked pretty good. Kendall had been right about the baby blue shirt though, it was a better option than the standard white. And the charcoal slacks he’d found in his closet were exactly what he needed to go with them. Now, if he only had a pair of decent shoes, he’d be set. Since he didn’t, he slipped on his riding boots. They’d be mostly covered by his pants anyway, so no one would even know. 

Well, except Wes because that son of a bitch noticed everything. 

That wasn’t entirely true because Wes hadn’t exactly noticed that Travis had been miserable since he’d announced his engagement six weeks ago. Not that he expected Wes to care, because Wes only focused on what was important to Wes. Sadly, Travis wasn’t on the list of important things it seemed, which hurt more than he’d expected. 

“At least there’s going to be an open bar,” he told the mirror. “No sneaking in a flask or being the only one drunk during the reception.” He could count on at least Captain Sutton imbibing a little more than prudent tonight. He almost wished Wes had invited their therapy group to the ceremony. He could commiserate with Peter and Clyde and Mr. Dumont if nothing else. 

Deciding he was as good as he was going to get, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the scene of the crime. Er, the wedding ceremony. Same damn difference. No matter how you put it, his happiness was being slaughtered with the utterance of two simple words – I do.

Dr. Ryan had called him again last night, the third time since they’d met at the diner a couple weeks ago. He hadn’t answered, and had pointedly ignored her probing questions during group. Because he was too chicken to tell Wes how he really felt, he found it too embarrassing to confess his failure to act to Dr. Ryan. Even though she, of all people, would be the one to understand his situation, make him understand that this wasn’t a reflection on his character. 

 

“You look amazing, blondie,” Travis said, a false note of joy in his voice. 

He’d found Wes hovering near the altar, looking as unsure as Travis felt. For a hot second, Travis almost felt bad for his partner, even though he couldn’t possibly understand half of what Wes was likely feeling right then. All he knew was that the guy looked lost and scared half to death. 

“Thanks, Marks,” Wes said, a faint blush tinting his ivory cheeks, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a nervous smile. “You don’t look half bad yourself. See what happens when you take a little pride in yourself?”  
Ouch, that hurt. But Travis knew Wes wasn’t trying to be nasty, he was just being Wes. It was something he was used to, welcomed even. If Wes was critiquing his appearance, then it meant Wes was seeing him. Noticing him. That Wes was present and in this moment they were sharing.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” Travis hadn’t realized Wes was still talking. “Yeah man, I’m fine. I’m just – I’m going to find a seat. 

Wes reached out an arm and caught Travis’ sleeve. “Travis, wait.” 

He stopped, heart pounding. God, what he wouldn’t give for the courage to tell Wes everything that was racing through his soul. Even if he couldn’t tell Wes that he was in love with him, he could still say that this wedding was a mistake. That he’d regret it later. But the words stuck in Travis’ throat, blocked by the budding fear in his belly. 

Turning so that he faced Travis head on, Wes studied his partner for a moment. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been so… I don’t know, weird lately. Even stranger than your usual brand of odd, which is quite an accomplishment, Marks. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Travis forced a nod. “Yeah, baby, I’m fine. I’ve been dealing with some things but they’re not important now. You have to focus on that new –” he nearly choked on the word but managed to get around it with a little effort. “Wife of yours. She’s all you have to be concerned with today. Excuse me.”

 

_**Two Months Ago** _

 

“Why were you in my bed Saturday morning,” Wes demanded forty-three seconds after Travis arrived on Monday morning. Wes was nothing if not predictable. 

“Listen,” Travis said, waving a hand between them, prepared for Wes’ demanding onslaught. “It doesn’t matter. It’s obvious you don’t remember and that means you aren’t likely to believe a damn word I’m going to say. So, let’s chalk it up to poor judgement on my part and get on with our lives. Okay?”

He turned to walk away but Wes grabbed his arm and gave a rough yank. “No, it’s not okay, Marks. I want to know what you were doing in my hotel room without my permission!”

“This isn’t a discussion you want to have here,” Travis said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. By nature, cops – especially detectives – were nosy fucks, and neither wanted to be part of the department’s rumor mill. “Trust me on this. If you want to go somewhere more private, I’ll be happy to tell you why I was there. But you do not want Kate and Amy and the rest of the damn station knowing.”

Wes made a face, but released his grip on Travis. “Fine. Get your stuff and meet me at my car. We have a case and it’s a bit of a drive to the scene. We can talk on the way.”

Great, so Wes would drive them off the side of the freeway on the way to a crime scene. Exactly how he’d planned on spending his Monday morning.

 

_**Present Day** _

 

He sat in the last row, as far away from the aisle as he could manage. An easy escape route, Travis told himself, on the off chance things got to be too much for him. Hell, who was he kidding? The ceremony hadn’t even started and it was already too much for him. Travis had almost broken down leaving his gift on the table with the others. Seeing all those cards addressed to ‘Mr. and Mrs. Wesley Mitchell’ had nearly undone his carefully prepared façade. 

“You should have told Wes,” Dr. Ryan said, taking the empty seat beside him.

“I tried,” he said, “but in the end, I couldn’t. He’s happy again for the first time in a long time, doc. How could I ruin that for him?”

“A better question is why do you think he deserves to be happy and you don’t?”

Travis made a face and shook his head. “It’s not like that at all,” he said, looking at his feet and sighing. “I’ll tell him when he gets back from his honeymoon. That way he won’t feel obligated to – to well, feel anything back, I guess. It’ll be one more bit of information for him to process and file in that brain of his.” 

Dr. Ryan laid a hand on Travis’ back. “Do you really believe that’s the right thing to do?”

No, he absolutely didn’t, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t drop this bomb on Wes and walk away, leaving blondie to get married. So, he’d wait. And if he took this secret to his grave, no one would ever be the wiser. 

“Travis,” she said. “I think –”

“Excuse me,” he said, cutting her off and feeling awful about it. “I think I see Kate. She’s from my department.”

“Okay, Travis,” Dr. Ryan said, frowning. “But we will continue this conversation later. You know I’m here to help you, right?”

He nodded in her direction, having exactly zero intention of finding her again once the ceremony was over. As a matter of fact, now that he was up, he didn’t see any reason why he should even stay. Why torture himself by watching the only man – scratch that – the only person he’d ever loved marry someone else? Yeah, he had a bottle of Jose Cuervo at home, calling his name. And since Wes would be on his honeymoon come Monday, there’d be no one to chew his ass when he arrived late and hung over.

Problem solved. 

He strode out of the chapel and into the parking lot. Finding his bike, he slung one leg over the frame, and kick started it into life. Settling his helmet into place, he tore out of the parking lot and onto the street. Home was the only safe place for him right now, and it’s where he planned on staying until this heartache ended. Or until he managed to drown it. Whichever came first.


	5. Chapter 5

_I stay up late and read a lot at night_  
Lately she's begun to wonder why  
She don't know I'm scared that I'll start talking in my sleep  
You're a hard secret to keep 

_A Hard Secret to Keep_ \- Mark Chesnutt 

 

_**Present Day** _

 

Travis put the bottle on the floor and fell back against his pillow. The blessed numbness that came with too much tequila was starting to settle in like a hug from an old friend. It was a shame that it didn’t deaden his brain like it did his extremities. He’d love to be able to stop thinking, to stop feeling, for an hour or three. Something tugged at the corner of his consciousness and he pushed it aside. Nothing was getting him out of this bed right now. He didn’t give a damn what happened, he was going to lie here and sulk in the quiet of his bedroom. Why the hell shouldn’t he indulge his misery for one isolated moment? It was the least he owed himself. 

Ah, the tequila was finally taking effect, he thought, closing his eyes to the welcoming obliviousness. Vaguely, Travis thought he could hear Wes’ sweet voice calling his name. The way Wes put the accent on the second syllable instead of the first like everyone else so familiar to him. But there wasn’t a chance. Wes was getting married – promising himself to that sweet girl, Carlie – today. The girl Travis would always hate for taking his love away from him. But he couldn’t really dislike her, because she was exactly what Wes needed. Kind and sweet and patient and pretty and –

 

“Travis,” he heard in his head, his name surrounding him in his bed. The lure of that voice precisely enough to cut through the fog of agave nectar soaking his brain. “Damn it, Travis, open your eyes.”

His eyelids were too heavy to lift, but somehow he managed to open them a crack. Yeah, the tequila was definitely working because that was Wes’ handsome face he saw before him. Blurry as it was, he’d know his baby anywhere. The poof of blond bangs, the sharp curve of pale cheek, those devastating blue eyes… 

“God, Wes,” he muttered, eyes fluttering closed again. “I’m so damn sorry.”

“For what,” the voice asked. 

He could swear he felt Wes’ fingers on his face, brushing through his hair, caressing his skin. Man, he was going to have to ask his foster brother where he’d gotten this tequila because he was beginning to think it was less agave than it was mescaline. But hey, what’s a hallucinogenic cactus between foster brothers, right?

“Travis,” the voice asked again. Impatient. Concerned. Wes. 

Travis smiled. Even in his drunken daydreams Wes was aggravated with him. It was a bit masochistic, but he had to admit that he loved it when Wes’ voice got that sharp edge to it. Sent tingles up Travis’ spine. Stirred his cock into life. 

God, he needed help. 

“I’m sorry for not ever telling you, baby. But I didn’t want to ruin your wedding day.” Travis shook his head, or he thought he did.

He heard a sigh, heavy and familiar. Why would he be imagining that? Travis forced his eyes open again, but there wasn’t anyone else in the room. He was alone, even his dream Wes had fled. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice cracking on the last word. “I shouldn’t have left, but I couldn’t bear to watch you marry her. I love you too much.”

“Oh for the love of god,” he heard Wes say, his voice soft and distant. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I just told you why, you jerk.” Travis half laughed through the tears clogging his throat. “Because of Carlie.”

Wes snorted, the sound filling the small bedroom. “I meant before. When I was still single. When I wasn’t engaged even.”

“I didn’t know before Carlie,” he confessed, figuring he could at least be honest with himself and this Wes his pickled imagination had conjured out of thin air. “I had no idea until I saw you acting so happy with her. I’m so sorry, Wes. Of all the people in the world, why did I have to fall for you?”

“I ask myself the same question,” Dream Wes said. “And then I follow it up with why on earth did I ignore my feelings for so long. To think we could have both been happy rather than miserable.”

“You weren’t miserable,” Travis sobbed, feeling something break inside him. “You were ecstatically happy.”

“I was living a lie,” Dream Wes said. “I convinced myself I was happy with her in much the same way I convinced myself I was happy with Alex those last couple years before we split up. Both were a lie.”

Travis flung an arm across his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I can’t do this anymore, Wes. I can’t.”

“You don’t have to, Travis,” Wes said. 

A soft brush of lips ghosted across his forehead and Travis fell asleep.

 

Damn, but his head hurt, Travis thought. He idly wondered how much he’d had to drink the night before and found himself unable to recall. “That’s not good,” he muttered. “Not good at all, dumbass.”

“What’s not good, Marks?”

“Wha?” Travis startled at the sound of the voice. Opening his eyes, he found a familiar pair of blue eyes watching him. Holy shit, how had Wes wound up in his bedroom? What kind of twisted sort of déjà vu? “Wes, what – why – um…”

Wes laughed, shaking the small bed with his glee. “You must have been pretty plastered last night. You kept calling me ‘Dream Wes’.”

Oh no. “You – you were really here? Oh god, I – I thought that was all courtesy of the tequila my foster brother gave me.” He slumped onto his side, covering his face with his hands. Please don’t cry, he begged himself. Wes had already seen too much of that already, if his foggy memories of last night were anything to go by. 

“Sounds like it was some questionable shit,” Wes said, chuckling. 

“Yeah,” Travis agreed, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes. “I’m going to have to ask him where he got it and request he never share another bottle with me.” He pushed himself into a sitting position so that he could look down at his partner, propped up on one elbow. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in Hawaii on your honeymoon?”

Wes flopped onto his back and let out a harsh breath of air. “Yeah, I should be.”

“But you’re not?” Travis was stunned that Wes really was here, that he hadn’t imagined it. “Oh hell.”

“What?” Wes lifted his head to look at Travis. “What’s wrong?”

“If you were here then that means you heard…” God, no. Why now?

“I did,” Wes said, reaching out and taking Travis’ hand. “And it’s okay. When you came to say hello yesterday, I could tell there was something bothering you. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was and then I saw you leave.” Wes looked away, eyes flickering to the shadows dancing on the ceiling. 

“Shit,” he muttered. “I thought I’d gotten away without anyone noticing.”

“Dr. Ryan noticed, too,” Wes snorted. He smiled up at Travis. “She came to find me after you bolted. Told me everything. Suggested that it was time I came clean myself. I still have no idea how she even knew but…” He shrugged. They’d both come to the conclusion long ago that that woman knew more than she let on. Not to mention more than she ever needed to know. 

Raking his fingers through his hair, Travis tried to make sense of what Wes was saying. Dr. Ryan had done the unthinkable – she’d broken her promise. But he couldn’t be mad because Wes was here, with him, and not in Hawaii with Carlie. Fuck. “But Carlie…”

Wes patted the spot beside him. “Lay down, Travis. You’re making me nervous sitting up like that.” He waited until Travis had gotten comfortable, curled up against Wes’ warm body before continuing. “I think she knew.”  
“Really,” he asked, turning his head to look at Wes. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Wes said, tracing circles on Travis’ chest with a finger. “But she wasn’t even upset when I told her I couldn’t marry her. She smiled and told me to go get my man.” He huffed out an odd sounding laugh. “I never even told her it was you, but she knew.”

Travis lay against Wes, thinking. His partner curled his arm around him, pulling him close while they lay in silence. It was quiet and comfortable and everything Travis needed after the last few weeks. Never had he thought that this stillness could be so refreshing. He’d spent so much time trying to make things happen that he’d never taken the opportunity to let life occur organically. 

“I owe you an apology,” Wes said, breaking the silence.

“For what, baby?” The last word tingled on Travis’ tongue. For once, he could say it and mean it without fear of rejection. 

“For the way I acted that morning.”

He didn’t need to tell Travis which morning he meant, they both knew he was referring to that fateful Saturday when Travis woke up in Wes’ bed. “You didn’t remember inviting me,” Travis finally forced out. “It’s okay.”  
“It’s not,” Wes said, rolling away from Travis and getting out of bed. 

Travis looked up at Wes, hurt filling his entire body. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” Wes said, reassuring Travis. “But I’ll never say this if I stay by your side like that. It’s too hard.” He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs as Travis always thought of it. A glance at his feet before those deep blues met Travis’ paler ones again. “I did remember, but I was afraid. Ashamed. I didn’t want you to think I wanted more from you that night, even though I had. I’d wanted to hold you and kiss you and – and all those things I knew I couldn’t ever have from you. Things I never believed you’d share with another man, especially not me.”

“You know me,” Travis said. “You could have asked. Even if I didn’t want you that way, I wouldn’t have been an ass about it.” Or, at least he hoped he wouldn’t have been a jerk about it. He got out of bed and took Wes’ hands in his own. “If you had any idea how hard it was keeping my hands to myself that night…”

Wes laughed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, but god, it felt so good to hear it. “We’re pretty pathetic, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Travis agreed. But at least they were sad and pathetic together. “So, what next?”

“That’s a good question,” Wes said, allowing Travis to wrap him in his arms. “I guess we’ll figure that out as we go.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, loving the feel of Wes’ head against his shoulder. “But this is going to make group awful interesting.”

Wes sighed against Travis’ chest, curling an arm around Travis’ waist. “Not if we don’t tell them.”

He had a point. 

“Dr. Ryan will know,” Travis reminded him. “And you and I both know she’ll make a point to drop enough hints that one of those crazy ass women will figure it out.” 

“You know it’s going to be Dakota,” Wes chuckled against Travis’ skin. “She’s got some eerily accurate intuition.”

“Girl should have been a cop,” Travis agreed. “I guess we ought to be thankful she didn’t decide to be a criminal.”

“With that kind of mastermind,” Wes teased, “we’d never catch her.”

Pulling back slightly, Travis looked at Wes, realizing everything he’d ever wanted, he was holding in his arms. “Thank you,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Anything for you, Travis,” Wes said, accepting with his words all that Travis had to offer. Now and forever.


	6. Chapter 6

_We can make it to tomorrow_  
If we can find the morning light  
Everything will be alright  
If I can kiss you tonight 

_Kiss You Tonight_ \- David Nail

 

_**Two Months Later** _

 

“Does anyone have anything they’d like to add before we end today’s session?” Dr. Ryan looked around the group, lingering on each face for a moment before moving on to the next. “Dakota? You look like you have something on your mind.”

“I do,” she said, cutting her eyes in the direction of where Travis sat with Wes. “I want to know how long those two have been dating.”

Peter rolled his eyes and attempted to shush his wife. “Stay out of their business, honey. Maybe they’re not. Or, if they are, maybe they want some privacy?”

“No,” she said, brushing off his restraining hand. “I wanna know.”

“Why do you care what’s going on with us,” Wes asked, trying to choke back the knee-jerk anger. He’d been doing so much better these last few weeks. All of the nosy inquiries and leading questions hadn’t yet made him raise his voice. Travis was so proud. 

“Because,” she said, clasping her hands together in front of her. “We’ve been in this group together for a long time and I’d like to think we were friends. Besides, you two are so cute together and we’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

“She’s right,” Rozelle said, nodding in Dakota’s direction. “It’s been clear to us since the day you walked into this group that you were hot for each other.”

“Only you had no idea,” Mrs. Dumont added, nodding like the sage grandmother she was. “It’s really quite adorable.”

“Wait,” Travis said, interrupting the women before they could get started. “What makes you think we’re dating?”

Dakota grinned. “It’s obvious! Instead of leaning away from Wes, you both now lean towards each other when you sit. Body language never lies, Travis.”

“And you aren’t constantly trying to rip each other’s’ throats out,” Rozelle added, leaning back in her chair with a smirk.

“Not to mention,” Mrs. Dumont amended, despite her husband’s frown of annoyance. “When you do bicker now, it’s not as harsh as it used to be. Although, it’s mellowed a lot since you first started coming.” She side-eyed her husband. “Therapy can work if you let it.”

“Shit,” Travis laughed, unable to deny any of their accusations. “I guess they figured us out.”

“They figured you out, Marks,” Wes grunted. “I’ve not done anything to make them think we were a couple.”

“Uh-huh,” Travis said. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know.” Wes leaned back in his uncomfortable chair and folded his hands in his lap. He was practically daring Travis to disagree with him. 

“See,” Dakota shouted, pointing at them both. “They’re smiling while they fight. I knew it!”

“Dr. Ryan,” Wes whined. “Can we go now?”

Hiding her smirk behind her notebook, Dr. Ryan nodded. “Group is dismissed. I’ll see you all,” and here she gave Wes and Travis a pointed look, “back here on Thursday.”

 

“Those women are insane,” Wes muttered into the crook of Travis’ neck. 

“Nah,” Travis muttered, gripping the back of Wes’ head with one large hand. “They’re just way too damn observant. Shoulda known they’d figure it out.”

“Mmm,” Wes agreed, letting Travis’ touch distract him. “They’re smarter than we gave them credit for being,” he admitted. 

“They’re right though,” he continued, brushing a kiss along Wes’ pale skin.

“About what,” Wes asked, accepting the kiss and silently begging for more.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long, long time, but refused to let it be true.” He ruffled the back of Wes’ short, blond hair, tickling his lover and making him squirm. “After Alex, I thought maybe I had a chance, but then you found Carlie and…”

He couldn’t bear to think about that again. God, he’d spent too much time obsessing and fretting and generally making himself crazy. It was time to put it all to rest because he finally had Wes for his own. 

“And Carlie signaled the end of your chances,” Wes said, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I had no idea, Travis. Really. If I had known –”

Travis barked out a laugh. “If you’d known, you would have shut me down faster than a wreck on the freeway. But it’s okay, I understood that at least.”

They were silent for a long time, laying in each other’s arms and enjoying the simple peace of being together, exchanging kisses and touches that would one day lead to more. 

“Have you heard from Carlie,” Travis eventually asked. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know or not, but the need to ask was great. 

“Yeah,” Wes sighed. “She and her sister enjoyed the trip to Hawaii. I’m glad she decided to go even though we didn’t get married after all. It was the least I could do for her after walking out on our wedding.”

“She seemed pretty okay with it all considering the situation.” Travis brushed a tuft of blond hair off Wes’ forehead. 

Wes snorted. “Oddly enough, she saw it coming.” He shook his head and kissed Travis’ shoulder. “I don’t know how everyone around us knew for so long and neither of us had a clue.”

“It’s because they’re intuitive women,” Travis joked. “And we’re dumbass men.” Two dumbass men who were deep in denial. 

“You’re probably right,” Wes agreed. “But I kind of like your dumb ass.”

“Not half as much as I like your pasty ass, buttercup.”

Tilting his head up, Wes stole a kiss from Travis. “How about we call it even?”

“Yeah,” he said, rolling Wes onto his back. Straddling Wes’ waist, Travis smiled down at his partner turned boyfriend. “I think I can live with that for now.”

Wes threaded his fingers through Travis’ hair, pulling him down into a kiss. “I couldn’t agree more.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Life Changes (Art)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445531) by [MistressKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat)




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